


Cool Like The Ocean

by MonsterTesk



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterTesk/pseuds/MonsterTesk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandy white beaches and briny kisses.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cool Like The Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt from tumblr. This one was basically Chris and Stiles at the beach- think happy thoughts.
> 
> For done reason it's not keeping my formatting so I'll fix that tonight when I get home.

Stiles floats, eyes squinting, as he watches the waves roll in. They glitter around him like cold liquid diamonds. He's looking for a good one; a wave he can ride back to shore. The sun beats hot on his shoulders but the chill of the Pacific Ocean counters the heat perfectly. He doesn't have to wait long.

A big one, already foaming and curling comes pretty quick. Stiles readies himself, laying out on his belly board. He kicks his feet then— take off. His momentum is out of his control. He holds on tight and rides it into the shallows where he's forced to stand. Slowly, careful of the small hard things that dwell on the waist deep water, he walks with the waves the rest of the way onto the beach. Sand sticks to his feet and Stiles smiles.

Children scream, playing chicken with the water. Dogs bark as they run ahead of their owners. The place is beautiful; white soft sand and perfectly curling green waves but Stiles has only one thing of beauty in his sights. Laid out on a blanket, his wakeboard sitting in the sun is Chris Argent, one hand thrown over his eyes. He's already got a light tan– which Stiles thinks is the height of unfair seeing as the closest he'll get to that today is a sun burn. Stiles sits down next to him, leaning back on his arms.

"Done already?" Chris asks, voice slow and quiet. Stiles nods, body a good type of tired and hungry.

"Thanks for bringing me here," Stiles replies, looking down at Chris with a small smile. Chris shifts his arm so he can look at Stiles.

"Thought you'd like a break."

Stiles nods, pulling a water bottle from the small cooler next to him. A guy not much older than Stiles glides by on the waves in front of him. His wakeboard is bright pink and Hello Kitty. Stiles chugs half his water bottle. Just as much dribbles down his chin as makes it into his mouth. When he looks back over Chris is staring at him.

"What?"

Chris shakes his head, sitting up. There's a look in his eyes that Stiles recognizes. It's a look that says he's thinking naughty thoughts he won't say out loud. Stiles licks his lips.

"I'm hungry."

"It is about lunch time. What d'you want to eat?"

Stiles grins, setting his water bottle in the sand.

"Smoked sausage."

Chris raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Stiles leans over and kisses him because he can. Because no one here knows who they are. His beard tickles Stiles' face pleasantly. It's nice. Chris tastes like saltwater. Some girls sitting nearby giggle furiously. Stiles cups Chris' face, scratching his fingers through his beard. When they pull apart Chris is almost smiling, eyes glittering just like the waters in front of them.

"How about some sandwiches?" Chris offers instead. Stiles shrugs, digging his toes into the sand.

"Only if we make them in our room and I get to do horribly inappropriate things to you in the shower."

Chris runs his hand over Stiles' side. The sand on his hand rubs off onto Stiles' skin.

"If you want."

Stiles kisses him again.

"I want. Very much, I do."

Chris nods and they pack up their things, shaking out towels and brushing sand from their boards. They walk side by side through the white sands, only stopping once when Stiles finds a perfectly white shell with the soft part of his foot. He sticks it in his pocket as a monento.

They put their things in the back of Stiles' Jeep and head back to their hotel room.

Chris reaches out at a stop and tangles his fingers with Stiles. Their hands sit like that on Stiles' leg the whole drive, sandy and warm and perfect.


End file.
